


Polite Conversation

by Janieohio



Series: That's Life Together [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Apologies, Double Dating, Established Relationship, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Traumatized Ron Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23973406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janieohio/pseuds/Janieohio
Summary: What's a guy to do when he walks in on his best mate doing STUFF with their old school rival? Somehow, making polite conversation with the guy over dinner was not on his initial list of options, but there he ended up anyway. Harry/Draco, EWE, QL Round 3. Part of That's Life Together series, immediately following Conversational Intelligence (set March 2004).
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: That's Life Together [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559218
Comments: 12
Kudos: 246
Collections: feert91 finished readings





	Polite Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the third round of the Quidditch League fanfiction competition. To orient you in the timeline of the That's Life Together universe, this takes place in March 2004, a couple of weeks after the conclusion of Conversational Intelligence, and five months before Ron's Adjudication. See End Notes for Prompts used in competition.

* * *

_Polite conversation is rarely either. - Fran Lebowitz_

* * *

"Hermione!" Ron's panicked voice rang through their flat, followed by a door slam.

Hermione jumped up from the chair in her home office in alarm. She'd not heard him sound like that in—well, since the war, maybe? So six years?—and was sure something truly terrible must have happened.

"Hermione? Oh, bloody hell, I think I'm going to be sick."

She pulled her door open to see Ron disappearing into their bedroom; she was seriously concerned.

"Ron? What's happened? Are you okay?"

"No!" He slumped down in the chair next to their bedroom window, his pale face staring out to the dreary March landscape.

She knelt down before him. "Ron, look at me. You have to tell me what's happened. Are you sick?" She conjured a basin and put it in front of him. "Here, use this. Do you need a potion?"

He pushed the basin away and wrapped his arms around his midsection, then began to rock. Her concern turned to dread.

"Ron," she said quietly. "What's happened? You're scaring me."

He looked up and met her eyes. His eyes, normally a vibrant blue, looked dull and in shock. "Harry," he muttered. "It's Harry."

Her stomach plummeted. _Oh, God._ Their best friend had been an Auror for nearly five years now. He'd been injured before, but— _No,_ she thought. _I won't think it._

She heard the terror in her own voice. "Ronald Weasley, if you don't tell me what's happened to Harry _right now_ , I swear you will sleep on the sofa for the rest of our married life. Now, talk! And you'd better make sense."

Ron looked startled at her outburst, then scowled. "C'mon, 'Mione. Why do you gotta be like that when I'm hurt? Can't you see?" He groaned and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. "Oh, Merlin. _See._ I can't unsee," he whined.

Hearing Ron complain calmed Hermione slightly, but she still didn't know what the hell was going on. "Ron…" she warned.

"Fine. I'll tell you, but don't say I didn't warn you." Ron stood and started to pace, swearing under his breath.

She glared at him but stayed quiet as he gathered his thoughts.

"So, you know how you got me those Cannons tickets for Valentine's Day, right? Well, I hadn't found a chance to ask Harry if he'd go with me, and I wanted to check if he could, 'cause if not, I was gonna see if Seamus wanted to go instead."

"Why didn't you just ask him at the pub last night?" Hermione asked, confused. "Surely you had plenty of time."

He paused his pacing and scrunched up his face. "Well, that's the other thing. Harry didn't come last night. I mean, he missed some of the pub nights when he was keeping Teddy while Andromeda was sick, but now that she's better and Teddy's home with her, I figured we'd go back to normal, right?"

Hermione nodded, suddenly more curious than worried about where this was going.

"Anyway, I figured I'd pop over to Grimmauld Place with some lunch and we'd bum around while you worked for a bit, and I'd see what was going on." He ran his hand through his hair as he started pacing again, his steps becoming more agitated.

"Okay, so what happened? What got you into such a state that I assumed something horrendous happened to our best friend?" She almost cringed as she heard her voice start to get screechy on the last words, but she was getting really frustrated with this entire conversation. She had better things to do on a Saturday afternoon—like catching up on her work for the new creature bill they were about to introduce to the Wizengamot—than to listen to her idiot of a husband rant about their friend having a life outside them.

Ron groaned, then sat down with his head in his hands. "Dammit, Hermione. His floo was open, so I went through."

"Right. And…?"

He rubbed his palms over his eyes again. "He wasn't alone, Hermione. And they weren't dressed!" He stood up and started pacing again. "He was undressed, doing...stuff… with Draco sodding Malfoy!" He spat out the last words as though they were poison on his tongue.

Hermione sat quietly, absorbing the information. Five years of practice in the Ministry had taught her how to school her face so her inner emotions didn't immediately cross her face. And thank goodness, because she didn't think her husband would appreciate the huge grin she was currently suppressing.

_Good job, Harry! You figured it out._

Ron stopped and looked at her still solemn face. "Hermione, are you okay? I'm sorry to just spring that on you. What are we going to do about it? I know you said they'd been becoming friends, and that Harry said he'd changed, but they can't be…" He trailed off, unable to find the words.

"Together?" she suggested.

"Yes, exactly! They just _can't_. It doesn't make sense."

Hermione stood slowly and put her hand on Ron's shoulder. "Okay, let's stop for a moment. What's bothering you here? That he's with Draco, or that you saw them having sex?"

"What?" he sputtered as he clued into her tone of voice. "It doesn't bother you?" He stepped back and threw his arms up in the air. "He called you a Mudblood for _years_ and constantly berated you for the circumstance of your birth. He has a bloody dark mark! His Aunt _tortured_ you, Hermione. Why are you not stalking over there right now to demand why your best friend has betrayed you?"

Hermione felt her temper begin to rise and narrowed her eyes. "Thank you, Ronald, for the reminder. I must have somehow forgotten that little tidbit about Bellatrix Lestrange. How clever of you to remind my poor little female mind."

"Oh, come _on_ , you know that's not what I meant," Ron said as he rolled his eyes.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes, he has an aunt who was abominable. He _also_ has one that is one of the best women we know, and who is raising Harry's godson; neither of them has anything to do with who _he_ is."

"Fine, but what about the rest? He was a Death Eater, ' _Mione_."

"I believe _was_ is the pertinent word here, _Ron_. Have you even talked to Harry about him?" She stalked over to him, and despite his much greater height, she got in his face. "I've been telling you for two months"—she poked two fingers into his chest to accentuate her point—"that they've become friends. Have you even _once_ asked Harry about it? Have you talked to your best friend about the person who he's been spending so much time with? Have you even _noticed_ that your best friend hasn't been around as much for the last three months? Or have you been so wrapped up in your own life that you haven't paid a lick of attention?"

Ron stopped. "What?"

She sighed. "Look, I haven't said anything much, Ron, because Harry told me not to worry about it. But what did you think he was up to while we've been home alone being Newlyweds since November?"

"He was taking care of Teddy!"

"With…?"

Ron sat down on the bed, his shoulders slumped. "Malfoy."

"Right. He and I have talked about it a bit. They're friends, Ron. _Good_ friends"— he snorted and muttered something about an understatement—"and from what Harry says, Draco has changed a lot. He's working at St Mungo's in the Potions Lab, _helping people_. He watches cartoons on the telly with Harry and Teddy, he took Teddy ice skating at the Muggle ice rink, and most of all, when Harry told me all this, even though they were just friends—Ron, Harry was _happy_."

Ron glared at the floor, and Hermione sat down next to him.

"Listen, I know this was a shock, and I'm sure Harry isn't pleased you saw them—"

"I don't think they noticed," he interrupted. "They were a little, er, busy."

A giggle escaped her and Ron shot her a scowl. "Sorry," she said with a laugh. "Anyway, I'm sure Harry would like to talk to us about all this, but he's nervous about how we'll take it. What _you_ need, though, is to see Harry and him together, I think."

He tried to object, and she laughed. "Okay, I guess you already saw them _together_ "— _Merlin_ , _that must have been a sight—_ "but you need to see them _around_ each other; how they behave; how they interact. Better?"

Ron nodded grudgingly, and she continued. "If Harry is as happy as I think he is, as happy as he's been the last few times I've seen him, then there's not much I wouldn't do to keep them together—and that includes keeping you out of their way if it comes to that."

"But Hermione—"

"No, Ron. No buts. I'm going to owl Harry tonight—not just pop in because obviously _that's_ a bad idea—and we're going to invite them out for dinner tomorrow. We'll get a chance to get to know Draco better, and to see how they are as a couple."

"Fine."

"And you'll be polite, Ron."

"I'll be nice if he's nice, but I'm not going to stand for him insulting you or being demeaning. I _won't_ , Hermione."

She smiled and took his hand. "That's fair. But do you really think Harry would be with him if he was still like that? _Really_?"

"I'll believe it when I see it."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I love you, Ronald Weasley, but I'm not going to be above giving you a good 'I told you so' after."

He laughed. "When have you ever been above such a thing?" He grabbed her and threw her down on the bed, tickling her. "I love you, too, you swot."

* * *

Harry's feet bounced under the table at the Muggle Italian restaurant where they sat waiting on Ron and Hermione to join them. "Are you sure you're ready for this, Draco? We can put it off. I can go talk to them myself, and then—"

"Harry, are you trying to keep me away from your friends?" Draco's voice was dry and his face placid. He was attempting to appear relaxed for Harry's sake, but the man certainly wasn't making it easy.

"What? No!" Harry turned and met Draco's eyes, then realised what he was doing. Taking Draco's hand, he gave a little squeeze. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to talk to them about us first and figured I had a few weeks. I'm not sure how they found out, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Hermione always seems to know these things."

Draco shrugged. "It doesn't really matter how they found out, but here they are now." He stood as the two approached. He hadn't seen either in more than five years, but even if he hadn't seen recent photographs in the Prophet, he wouldn't have had any trouble recognising Granger's large curls surrounding her petite face or Weasley's lanky frame topped with Weasley hair and freckles.

He nodded and gave a slight formal bow, determined to make this work for Harry's sake. "Weasley, Granger, it's good to see you."

Weasley's eyes caught Draco's in challenge as Harry rounded the table to give Granger a hug, then his bright blue gaze shifted to Harry and gave an assessing stare. Harry laughed nervously and patted his friend on the shoulder, then returned to Draco's side, taking his seat.

"Thank you, Draco, it's lovely to see you, too," Granger started. "And it's Granger-Weasley now, but you can just call me Hermione."

Draco felt his stomach turn at _Hermione_ 's easy tone. He saw the smile in her eyes, but instead of making him feel more at ease, it only raised his tension. He could more easily accept Weasley's open hostility than Hermione's simple welcome.

Still, he kept his voice even and cool. If there was anything that being a Malfoy had taught him and that he still found useful, it was how to hide his feelings in any situation. "Thank you, Hermione. You look lovely tonight. Thank you for inviting me to dinner."

Weasley grunted. "Yes, well, Hermione thought it'd be nice if we all had time to get to know each other better." His eyes swung to Harry's. "Harry, are you going to fill us in, or do we just get to guess."

Draco felt Harry's anxiety beside him, and it took a good bit of effort not lash out at Weasley for upsetting Harry. But when Harry spoke, he surprised Draco by lashing out a bit himself.

"Ron, it's obvious from the letter Hermione sent yesterday that you both are aware of Draco's and my relationship. I hadn't had the chance to tell you about it yet since we've both been busy, but rest assured I had planned on doing so soon. However, I'd like to make a few things quite clear. Just as Draco will not be rude to you because he knows what you mean to me, I expect that you will not be rude to Draco for the same reason. I won't tolerate it. He's come tonight because he'd like to clear the air and because he cares about me."

Harry took Draco's hand under the table and squeezed. Draco moved his eyes from the man next to him to the couple opposite. Hermione was beaming at them both, then gave a huff and elbowed her husband.

Weasley cleared his throat and looked at his best friend. "Sorry, Harry. I just learned about this yesterday and I'm trying to be okay with it. I _am_. It's probably going to take a while, though, but I'll be nice."

Harry nodded, then looked at Draco. Weasley followed his gaze and sighed.

"Thank you for joining us for dinner, Malfoy."

Draco nodded. "It's understandable, Weasley. And please feel free to call me Draco, if you like. It's been a long time since Hogwarts, and I think we can all agree that I gave you plenty of reasons not to like me back then."

The waiter approached, and they all took a moment to order their drinks, while Draco used the break to put his thoughts in order. Once they were alone, he continued.

"Will you both allow me to say something for a moment without interrupting?"

Hermione nodded and shot her husband a look that had him following her lead. Draco suppressed the snort that wanted to arise at that. Merlin help him if he ever became led so easily.

"I want to apologise. For everything, really. For my behaviour when we were young, for my role in the war—"

"Draco—"

"Please, Hermione. I need to say this. May I?" He saw the pain in her dark brown eyes, and he was filled with regret. Regret at what he'd done, regret at the pain she'd suffered at the hands of him and his family, regret that his apology would bring it all up again. He waited for her response and told himself that if she refused, he'd stop, for her sake.

Finally, not moving her gaze from his, she nodded.

"Thank you." He took a deep breath and allowed the mask covering his feelings to drop. She deserved his honesty. "I am so unbelievably sorry for everything you've been through— everything my family and I put you through." He glanced at Weasley and included him in his apology. "All of you. I've spent the last few years trying to become a better person, and I've spent the last three months getting the opportunity to see up close what a better person looks like." Harry took his hand, but Draco concentrated on the couple in front of him. "I also want to say thank you."

Weasley's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and Draco gave a sad chuckle.

"Thank you for being there for Harry. I've learned recently how much you've both been there for him over the last thirteen years. Thank you for looking out for him, and for being his friends, his family."

Hermione gave Draco a beaming smile which was offset by a little sniffle. Weasley simply stared, dumbfounded, as the waiter brought their drinks and took their dinner orders.

Alone again, the couples sat in silence, waiting for some sign that would disturb the precarious balance in one direction or another. Finally, Weasley spoke.

"You're welcome, Draco. And you can call me Ron."

* * *

Hermione led Ron out of the restaurant two hours later, feeling lighter of heart than she'd expected and thrilled at how the evening had turned out. After that tension-fraught opening, the discussion had turned to Harry and Draco's burgeoning relationship and how they'd learned to be friends over a series of seemingly random conversations, only part of which Hermione was already aware of.

Moreover, she'd gotten to see Draco's sense of humour, and how much he'd mellowed since their childhood. She'd watch him tease Ron gently about the Cannons, and he'd taken Ron's barbs about his satchel that Ron insisted on calling a man-bag.

Ron walked next to her, then put his arm around her and pulled her close. "I just don't understand how they work."

She gave him a little elbow in the ribs and he grunted.

"What? They _do_ work, I just don't see _how_. I mean, they hated each other for all those years. How do two blokes who started out with midnight duels end up here?"

She snuggled in and tugged his arm tighter. "Well, look at where _we_ are. Look at where we _started."_

He laughed. "Touché."

"Besides," she continued, unable to resist needling him just a little more, "they had to channel all that passion somewhere, right?"

He groaned in disgust. "Merlin, don't remind me." He sighed. "So am I getting the _I told you so_ , yet? Or are you waiting?"

She grinned. "What can I say? I'm always right."

He laughed. "Thank Merlin."

* * *

_The End_

**Author's Note:**

> Theme: HAMILTON: It's Quiet Uptown: Write about someone asking for forgiveness.  
> Include Lyrics from Hamilton Song: Look at where we are, Look at where we started.  
> Prompts: (emotion) regret, (action) arguing, (dialogue) "What can I say? I'm always right."  
> Word Count Limit: 3000


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